In 1990, my dad shipped to me from central Pennsylvania seven white pine seedlings. I planted them in various spots around our yard. Given that Kansas is not the best environment for white pines, I figured I'd take a chance and see what they might become. A piece of my heart went into each planting hole due to the seedlings' origin in my beloved home state. It was the best gift ever from my dad.
Four seedlings died in fairly short order. Three grew strong and tall, with another dying around 15 years ago. It was still small enough that my son was able to take it down. Now one of the two remaining must go. The Kansas heat has proven too much for it, especially this year.
Something tells me that if the last one bites the dust, that will be my definitive sign that it is time to leave this house. Faith will carry me through that challenge, no doubt.